


Its A Bittersweet Relationship

by Heatherlovett



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Arguments, Depression, Getting Together, Hugs, M/M, Third Wheel, Transfer Window
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 05:49:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17543885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heatherlovett/pseuds/Heatherlovett
Summary: Chris knows his responsibilities, he’s old enough to know how things work. But, after Toby left, his fault or not, he’s now walking a thin tightrope. Jan could do nothing to help prevent it and now, can’t help to feel a stab of pain as them two grow closer.





	Its A Bittersweet Relationship

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I have ever started, finished and published. It won’t be perfect but any criticism, any at all, would be so beneficial for me. 
> 
> This fic is just the start of it, theres pleanty more to come when it finally gets written.

Chris took the last swig of his drink before resting the bottle down on the far cabinet. Around him was nothing but silence, a darkness that contrasted with light peeking out from behind the blinds. His house seemed to empty. It felt too open, everything too exposed for his liking but, he knew, he destroyed the chance to have someone here with him months ago. 

He kicked Toby out, cursed after him in a string of words that he was unsure if any even existed, before slamming the door, the pictures hanging shaking with the force. He took a moment to breathe, before continuing on as if nothing ever happened, as if he didn’t kick the man, he wanted so much in his life out his house for good. _It doesn’t matter_ , Chris wanted to think so badly, _it’s not like you’ll see him again._

Chris was told of Toby’s plans first by Jan, then by Toby himself. It wasn’t meant to spill out, the night was meant to be a meal together, watching a few movies before getting some much-needed rest before their match tomorrow night. Instead it didn’t end like that, meals left untouched, the sounds of their own voices competing against each other until speech wasn’t enough.

Chris pulled back his sleeve to look deeply at the cut formed on his arm and wondering if it was worth going to the doctors. _To say what? That you were hurt by your ‘best friend’ – yes that would really help the situation out Chris._

He knew he meant it by accident. With a dinner knife in his hands, he meant to grab Chris before he fell over a loose wire which was laid out on the middle of the kitchen floor. Instead, he cut him, blood leaking out the wound. He had offered to help but he pushed him away. He felt horrible still to this day, the way Toby generally felt sorry and stepped closer in a gesture to help, but anger washed over Chris like a rage of fire which burst on Toby unexpectedly. 

Now, miles away, he had no chance of a redemption. A relationship, a chance, gone. It was his fault, he knew, but he also knew secretly Toby was blaming himself. Taking the heat of the situation on his shoulders. He has no reason to, but he has. Chris knew his chances were slim, so he didn’t bother to ask if there was a chance. If there was, Toby couldn’t fly down to speak with him, unless they were drawn in the same champions’ league group which the chances of that were almost impossible. Even if they did, they were training separately away from each other, different times for press, different rooms, they wouldn’t have a chance for five minutes together either before or after the match. He wouldn’t know what to say, definitely saying something along the lines of _‘I’m sorry, please forgive me, I haven’t been myself since your gone and all I want is you back.’_ won’t be a way to cut it, to forget the months of heartbreak gone. To forget that Friday night like it never happened.

Toby left exactly three months ago to the day. He had time to get over the fact he was gone, he wouldn’t return as if Chris crossed his fingers and hoped. It was the reality of the situation and one he didn’t want to believe, but knew he had to. 

He sighed as he leant back, his eyes shut against the headrest of his sofa. His nails digging into his skin as he forced himself to breathe. He was tense, as if he could predict something was going to happen. He relaxed slowly, the time on the digital clock displaying quarter past 10, knowing he should be training rather than staying home alone for the third time in a row. 

It wasn’t like this, at least not until Toby left. Chris wasn’t the reason for his departure, but can’t help to think that he is. Toby could have made it work but knew his actions caused consequences than he won’t be able to go back on. 

He forced himself to training every day for a good month and he could feel the eyes on him whenever he went, like stalking his every move. The words he says to both Jan and Mousa were the words he repeated to everyone else with much intensity, saying _‘I'm fine, stop worrying’._ It never worked of course, but it got them shutting up for a while.

It was too much, the loss of someone close to him and the pressure of the days training made him unable to train with much – if not any – commitment. Instead, he stopped. Just stopped. Stopped practice, stopped matches, stop going out. He would make excuses every day not to participate which he knew was childish but it was the only way to get him out of going. 

It was an unusual behaviour that sparked both confusion and worry in the mind of arguably his longest friend at the club. No one seemed to take much notice at first but when they did, not one thing was done about it. It wasn’t as if Jan didn’t know about the situation with Toby but if Chris was generally ill, it wouldn’t be right for him to come around without a reason. 

He knew Chris well, too well maybe, but well enough to know within the first call that something wasn’t right. It wasn’t like him and he can’t shake of the feeling that he knew he’d been lied to. He called many times throughout the day, checking up, asking how he is and if he needs company in any way. Every time that he asked, it’s always the same ill-tempered response which couldn’t help add to his curiosity. 

Mousa told him to leave it, _‘Chris is sensible enough, he’ll come around’_ he said in that calming tone of his and he knew that he was right. 

_‘but what if he doesn’t’,_ those words remain unspoken. 

Still, he knew better. He knew the risks and he wasn’t prepared to take them, especially not the way things ended and he knew he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of one of Chris’ outbursts. 

So, he stopped worrying and waited instead. It became a waiting game for him for Chris to eventually show his face and he knew eventually he will and he knew, he would get the truth someday. 

Now though, Chris slowly stretched and decided sleep was the best option to let time past. He opted for the sofa, settling down and was out in record time. 

~~~~

The world cup was always the most stressful time, not only for the players but the fans and the media keeping up with the games as they come. It was arguably the most important tournament in the world, even if it did end with upset and heartbreak.

This summer provided Chris with no time for himself to relax and reflect on the season just been. It hasn’t been the dream season, again without silverware, but Champions League for the third successive season was the spark in their disappointing road to a Trophy being cut short. 

This, the world cup, was the most important time in his life to date. All responsibility on his shoulders to deliver in the biggest competition of them all, the stress and pressure of it all more intense than he’s used to. 

Before his arrival in Russia, he had been surprisingly calm. He knew what this tournament held for him and his team, the more he thought, the more doubt he would experience. He knew his team wouldn’t be here without him but to be the person to take them to the next level, he knew the responsibility. Was he ready? - A question he still doesn’t know the answer to. 

His room, a small double room on the end of the corridor. A bathroom to the left of the entrance, two small single beds in the middle of the room. A TV on the wall, a table displaying a welcome message to wish them good luck in the tournament. One window which took up half the wall, enough to see half of Russia. The sun still bright, enough light to still see the outline of the room, even with the curtains drawn.

The door creaking open as Chris entered, boots in hand, sweat dripping from his forehead as he let the door close behind him with a click. An intense training session under the lights, the emotion of it all catching up with him. Deep breaths as he sat on the edge of the bed as he tried to maintain some composure. 

He walked into the bathroom and allowed himself to relax under the steam of the hot water. His body fighting against him to work to the maximum capacity even though he felt it was too much. Shorts hung low on his hips, a towel slowly drying his hair as he sat back in bed, the other hand scrolling through social media.

He let his family know he was okay, his friends too. He caught up with social media, his Instagram full of stories, each team mate in a different part of the same country he’s in now. It was crazy to think of how the tournament brought everyone together but still feeling distant from each other. Another refresh of his Instagram, moments from closing the app until a story popped up by someone he’s refused to speak to in months.

Toby. 

It’s not that he didn’t want to, he couldn’t. Not after it -- no. It wouldn’t be beneficial, the most stressful part of this year, he didn’t want to add to it. 

What happened, happened. What the future says, it will come in time. Be able to answer all the unanswered questions Chris had on his future with him. Although he feels strongly for him, he didn’t think that Toby would want someone that pushed him to leave. Although Jan has said it wasn’t his fault, the words from Toby, if nothing occurred then he could work with the manager to stay. Might have only be for six months, but it was something. 

Life goes on, he moved on. He forgot about him, it would be easier to anyway. Neither Jan or Mousa mentioned him without Chris’ consent which helped. It took his mind of it, allowed him to have the freedom he desired. Although many disagreed, it helped see the Chris that they were used to. This situation toned Chris down, less talkative and content, and now without the constant talk of Toby, they could see the benefit from it.

Jan and Mousa both tried. Not just to get through to him, but to help to understand more of the situation to expand their knowledge. It didn’t work, both left in the dark. They didn’t push it any further when they learnt of Chris new plan not to mention him and when they saw that it helped to benefit him, they left it. They were there on the sidelines for him, and Chris was aware. 

Curious, he clicked the story. He didn’t usually but something told him to. It was a picture of him training with his national team, something Chris came to expect from everyone. He didn’t know why he expected anything different, especially this time of year. The picture showed him to be happy and relaxed, focussed on the ball at his feet. It sparked pain in his chest but it soon vanished, knowing with training pictures on his Instagram, Toby was giving him a taste of his own medicine. 

He clicked off the app, then on, then finally off. Placing his phone down to one side, he finished getting changed, tracksuit and T-Shirt, before promptly drying off his hair. Although it wasn’t late, the manager expected them all down for some last minuet team talk before their match tomorrow. 

The match, which Chris knew was a crucial moment in his life. 

It was important, no doubt, but with the thought now of Toby, he was going to be harder to get rid of. He knew concentrating more on the match was the best option, he couldn’t think straight with thinking about the present and future and knew that what was happening in his life now was more important than thinking about someone that is now nearly impossible to get. 

If he talked to Toby, he would. However, he wouldn’t force it. Not only for his sake but for Toby’s sake too. 

Finishing getting ready, he placed his phone in his back pocket, making sure he had his key card with him before he set of to greet the rest of his teammates. Tomorrow would be hard, but he knew that they, as a team, had the strength in order to succeed. 

~~~~

He wasn’t good enough and that’s what cost them. He couldn’t live up to the hype and expectations that were asked of him. By Denmark’s standards, the round of 16 was a milestone but for the team, it wasn’t enough. Chris knew that his own individual performances cost Denmark a chance to get to the world cup quarter final, there best ever finishing place, and a chance to go further. 

He felt the rush of anger and guilt building up inside him when he saw his own penalty shot saved, the ball crashing of the post and landing a few yards away from the goal. He knew he let his country down and even if they got through, it was luck that carried them. They crashed out as a result of it and Chris didn’t bother to accept anything other than it was his fault. 

France won, and as much as he was happy for Hugo, he can’t help to think that that could have been him. Up there, surrounded by a buzz of Red and White strips, a family of teammates with the world cup trophy in his hands, the shiny gold medal wrapped around his neck. Instead, he’ll have to take a place in the round of 16, while reflecting on what could have been. As much as he was proud, he could never be prouder to support his country, he wanted success for once and a chance to have his name in the spotlight with his national team. 

The changing rooms were dull, no atmosphere. As if there was going to be anything else. Chris slumped down and with his head in his hands, he breathed. Their manager came in and did the usual team talk whenever they lost, which wasn’t usual. Chris paid no attention, instead the constant voices repeating in his head distracted him, only knowing that it was time to leave by a light shove, indicating to collect his bags. 

The coach journey wasn’t far, but Chris sat alone. With headphones on, imagine dragons blasting out his headphones, he could hear the familiar ping of notifications as they flood his phone. Messages by family and friends, offering him comfort and support. However, one message popped up on his phone, which he fixed his eyes to. It was a short sentence by Toby, the first message he has received from him since his disappearance. 

_‘Don’t be too hard on yourself, you played well’_

Chris opened the message hesitantly. For all he knows, the likelihood of this being Toby is small, in his eyes. It wasn’t like him to text, especially hearing nothing from him the last games, not one word. It was expected, of course, but this was a whole new level.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, deciding carefully what to write. He could be kind, surprised or make his feelings of anger clear, something that wouldn’t help situations. Instead he opted for a short one-word answer: _‘Thanks.’_

It wasn’t meant to come out as harsh as it sounded but it would do. He shut his phone of, then on, waiting for anything to come from Toby. After giving up hope, five minutes later, a ping let him knew he had a message. 

_‘Chris, listen. I’m not asking for your apology, because I don’t deserve it. I know what I did was wrong, but I want to fix it. I’ll make it right, if you’re willing to do your part.’_

It’s something that got him thinking. On one hand, he wanted Toby. Since his disappearance, he hadn’t been the same. To get them back to a level that they could both agree on would do so much to Christians development. It would have thought he would have gotten over this point, he is an adult after all. It was childish behaviour and knew that he should think about his life rather than the life with someone he wasn’t certain to get. 

On the other hand, though, he had gotten better without the constant talk and worry of him. He stopped thinking, he stopped his thoughts from wandering to places he knew was bad for him. His actions let everyone know what his plans were. Although people tried to get through to him, he stopped them before they got any further. It distracted him, which allowed him to focus more on what was important, which soon helped channel his inner thought to something more positive. 

Getting some relationship with him was what he planned to do. He didn’t want to go far but something along the lines of civil would do. 

_‘I’ll be civil, I can’t be anything more now.’_

He knew Toby was thinking more, but anything more would hurt. Within a second, another reply. 

_‘That’s all I want’_

_‘Then, yes.’_ Chris replied, he was going to somehow make it work.

Toby didn’t reply to that and he knew he wouldn’t. It was weight lifted of both their shoulders, a wall between them slowly breaking down to some extent or other. It wouldn’t be hard; the fact of time is now hard. The chance them meeting was slim but he knows knew that the possibility of arranging something was there.

Their last night at the hotel before flying home tomorrow morning, some of the lads were up for games or drinks but Chris kindly denied, it wouldn’t be good for him now. He grabbed a shower before getting changed for bed. He managed to fall asleep quickly with the current thoughts in his mind, even though one stood out more than any other. 

~~~~

The start of the season came around quicker than what Chris wanted it to be. As soon as the world cup ended, they flew back to Denmark where he spent a week or so with family before flying over to the united states for their pre-season tournament to now being in London to prepare for their first game this season. 

It didn’t give Chris much time to relax, spending the better part of the weeks he had flying or playing, he didn’t seem to catch a break. With the premier league now starting up in just a couple of days’ time, he had to be ready. Their first game was Newcastle and although it didn’t seem like an impossible task, they were a difficult team, especially in their 5-1 thrashing which Chris was a part of a couple of years ago. 

And Toby, well. 

He didn’t talk to Toby much, but whatever he messaged it was improvement. He didn’t want to take a step too far in the direction in case it comes back to haunt him. Instead, their conversations were light and only talking when they felt like it was necessary. 

“Chris.” Jan greeted as he walked into the changing room. 

He invited Jan round early to talk and by early, the current time was 6:00am. He knew that Jan didn’t have to so was pleasantly surprised when he agreed.

Chris whipped his head around from where he was putting on his shoes and gave Jan a smile. Quickly tying his laces, he walked over to him and embraced him tight. He buried his head into his shoulder as he breathed in the aftershave as he felt arms grip his back. They slowly departed as Chris dropped to the bench, mirroring for Jan to join him. 

“You wanted to see me?” Jan asked as he dropped to the bench beside Christian. Chris nodded, then sighed, deciding what the best way to tell the situation would be. He highly doubts that Toby would have said anything, leaving him with all the work. It was what he wanted but he knew the stress of it. 

“Yeah. How’s Toby?” He asked, turning his attention to Jan.

He could see his brain working in order to say something. He knew Jan knew, but it wasn’t his business. Whatever he would say, it was something. It would give Chris some sort of idea of how he was and if what happened between them has changed him to some extent. 

“He’s been… alright. It started with him withdrawing from situations, not much but still something that caught my attention. Something clicked the last couple of weeks and he seemed like a brand-new person. Of course, I haven’t asked, its improvement for him and I don’t want to spark anything negative.”

Chris gave a weak smile, it was him. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know how much he meant to Toby, friends or not, but it was a big step up in the direction they were both in. 

“You and him?” Jan intruded Chris' thoughts as if he could read his mind. 

“Yeah, we talked. We agreed being civil, but nothing more.”

The ‘yet’ wasn’t added, even though the likelihood was high. 

He didn’t want to rush it, it would push Toby away. Of course, Toby didn’t know about Christians feelings towards him and he knew that he was wiring himself up for disappointment just thinking about what he wanted. It was a selfish act, putting himself first instead of others. 

Everyone else, much to Christians surprise, tried to force it on. Jan and Mousa tried to get Chris to open up to Toby about his feelings but he was too shy to. Every time he was with Toby, he made his actions obvious but he didn’t say anything. Every eye raised whenever they would sit together sharing food, music, laughter. Moments where Chris’ head rested on his shoulder, Toby’s fingers playing with the strands of his hair. It was comfort to Chris but more in other people’s eyes.

The longer this went on, it didn’t help Jan. He could forget about him and Chris as a possibility altogether. Yet, it dragged on and all he wanted was it to stop.

“Is that why-”

“I wanted you over? No.” Chris started, “You know more than anyone about what our status is, even though I refuse to talk until we are settled. No one else is to know.”

“I wasn’t-”

“I know, but, were in this situation and I want to perhaps take it a step further without it seeming like I’m going too far. I don’t want to scare him off but I want to know, when the times right, how to get over the last step.”

Jan’s eyes widened, never expecting that. He thought Chris would say its too soon for any relationship, after all they’ve only started talking recently after months of not. He knew Chris was logical but this was completely of the radar. 

He did remember briefly Toby asking the same question a couple of months ago. Whenever they saw each other, Toby was always asking about how Chris had been. Jan had been tempted to say the truth but knew that he couldn’t, not only that Chris would kill him but he doesn’t want to make Toby feel guiltier than he already feels. 

Toby knew he shouldn’t have left on bad terms with Chris but he forced a move earlier than he should had. Waited till the summer and maybe, just maybe, leave then, he was planning on leaving the club but with Chris he could had stayed.

Relationships aren’t football, he knew he had to put himself first. Football he knows, the rest will just have to be sorted out along the way. 

Jan bit his tongue whenever Toby mentioned Chris and the tension could be felt around the area. The one word answers he replies adds to it, having to fill the gap in his heart as if there wasn’t one to begin with. 

Jan knew Toby well enough not to ask the question, but from Christians mouth he didn’t expect. Its why he was thrown so off guard, looking at Chris as if he was to say it’s a joke but he said nothing instead. 

“Chris, really?”

“Not now, just, when its right.”

It was just crazy.

“And, how will you know?”

Chris straightened up as he locked eyes with Jan, before his gaze settled to his lap. He didn’t even know if it was a good idea but he knew he wanted to know. 

“I – I just will. I’ll know when it’s right but, I need help.”

He got the whole ‘feel it in your bones’ feeling so he could sympathise for that. He knew it wasn’t impossible for this to happen between two people that, secretly, him and Mousa had a bet on.

“Well first, you need to talk.”

They talk, but Chris knew he needed to talk more. It was all well small talking with him whenever he needed to but if he wanted to step up his game and let Toby know, he had to let the other know he was being serious about it. He knew he would start with the general chats till it developed to much deeper level. He would wait, rushing something as fragile as this is the wrong option. 

The next step, face to face. It will happen and when it does, he wouldn’t know how to start. Right now, it was the least important thing to worry about now, with Chris knowing his plans – down to Paris before away with the national team in Belgium before flying back out to the capital – it was luck if they ever were to cross the same path without warning. 

“and then-” Jan interrupted Chris from his thoughts “You see where it takes you. What’s meant to be will be, as the saying goes.” 

Chris huffed out a laugh as he shook his head. Its true, he knew. He couldn’t predict the status he would have with Toby but he didn’t want to risk it. He had Jan with him and to a point Mousa. Although them two weren’t close, he still knew more about what happened and he was willing to help. Although he didn’t speak to Chris about it, his actions made him aware. A hand to stop him from stepping too far over the edge. 

He slowly stood up and stretched, feeling every muscle in his body snap and then relax. He turned to Jan, who was already changed in training gear, and motioned him to follow him outside. He got the message and joined Chris in heading out to get started with training. 

The sun lung low in the sky, the orange glow enough to light up the field as it splashed the clouds with endless rays of pink and red. The cold air caressed their skin as they walked further into the horizon as if it drawn them to it. 

A bag of footballs spotted in the distance as Jan went to go and retrieve one. They played a quick game of passing before trying to get the ball of each other. It was fun, tiring but it was freedom from reality. It was the first time, properly, Jan saw him like this. Without worry or doubt, it caused a smile to appear on the faces of them both. 

As their team mates started to arrive, it was the perfect time. With Christians back to Jan, he had the ball in his possession as far away he could. While Jan’s right leg tried to get the ball, it opened up a gap for Chris to backheel the ball through his legs. It caused Jan to fall to the floor in defeat as Chris ran and celebrated, some of the others joining him in celebration. 

“He got you good.” Mousa laughed as he offered a hand to help Jan up off the floor. 

Jan muttered under his breath as he accepted Mousa’s offer. Chris looked at him with a grin and Jan’s face froze into hatred, his eyes glaring at the smaller man. 

Throughout training, Jan did what he could to get him back but soon realising it was impossible, focussed on the practical side. It was a full-on training exercise, barley given time to breathe before diving in deeper. It was expected with the start of the season edging closer, everyone needed not only to be match fit but it gives an opportunity to others to show their worth, especially with the club getting less likely to sign someone. 

Chris muttered a quick sorry to Jan at the end of it, throwing his arm around his shoulder. Jan accepted, ruffling his hair and soon got back to their teasing banter they shared with one another. 

He didn’t click with Chris the way that Chris and Toby did. They were inseparable from each other, it was always a rule: ‘whenever one is, you’ll find the other close by.’ It turned out to be true and something that Jan just couldn’t wrap his head around. 

Him and Chris, they had history. As far as anything else goes, Chris stopped him. It wasn’t right and Jan knew Chris didn’t love him the same way Jan did. Brothers but they couldn’t be lovers. 

Even when Toby left, he put a step forward. He never asked but could sense the distance of it and decided it never could work. It would be forcing Chris into something he’s not comfortable in, something he couldn’t do. He loved Toby and Toby loved him so Jan would do everything possible to help them through it. 

The changing rooms soon became quiet with people exiting to go back home to their families. Soon it was just the short chatter of people. Mousa was a couple of spaces down from his left and without Chris in sight, now was a good time.

“Mousa”, Jan said, his voice uncertain as he sat next to him.

Mousa smiled, then frowned. “Chris?”

“Not here.” Jan breathed, “Him and Toby, they’re talking. They want to take it further.”

Mousa knew about the relationship issue that both him and Chris had. It wasn’t hard to figure out the effects of it. As soon as they grew closer, Mousa learnt of Jan’s depression and did everything he could for him. 

Jan and Mousa, they talked about it but agreed they couldn’t – wouldn’t – take it further. There were some lines they just couldn’t cross. They didn’t speak about it again.

“Listen, you can’t stop it from happening. All you can do is support it, don’t let your feelings be known.”

It wasn’t as hard as it seemed. It was only supporting someone that you cared about get with someone else while you try not to break, nothing impossible. 

“It seems easy for you to say.”

And, that was easy to say because from the outside, it seemed possible. 

“I’m…” Mousa started, cleared his throat, “it’s…I get it. It was us two, in a way. Just – the futures one scary place.”

It was them two, loving each other in ways that couldn’t take it further. They knew, they talked about it but their differences clashed. For one, Jan’s ongoing, willing to take it further but Mousa was always hesitant and they both came to a neutral agreement that it was better for them to remain as friends. 

Chris could never love Jan in that way. It was something that Jan grew to know and eventually except. 

“Come,” Mousa started, grabbing his bags. They were the only ones left in the room. Jan followed Mousa out, past the offices and down to the car park where only two cars remain, side by side.

“You won’t speak to Chris?” Jan asked as he placed his bags in the boot, Mousa mirroring his actions. 

“Not unless you want me to?”

“Keep it that way.” His voice was bitter but it had some sweetness to it which made him just about approachable. Mousa carefully approached him and drew him into a hug. Jan obliged, clinging onto him as they slowly swayed sideways. 

Nothing was said, nothing needed to be said. It was a small embrace but meant everything, a chance to let go with Mousa ready and offering to give support to someone who needs it the most. They departed, just after the words _‘it’ll work’_ came tumbling out of Mousa’s mouth. 

Just then, something clicked.

It didn’t seem that important, however he can’t shake the feeling. 

Jan thanked him before climbing into the front seat. He watched as Mousa departed and took a moment to go over everything. 

What Mousa means by that he doesn’t know but soon realised, as everything else, he’ll find out. He only hopes its sooner rather than later.

He shook his head, as if trying to get the thoughts out, before following the same course home.


End file.
